


Empty Calls Quiet

by narath



Series: solavellan moments [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:47:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22482829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narath/pseuds/narath
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, Lavellan & Solas, solavellan - Relationship
Series: solavellan moments [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617592
Kudos: 2
Collections: Dragon Age Den fic collection





	Empty Calls Quiet

“I don’t know you anymore. I don’t know you at all.” 

His eyes searched hers, expecting more. It was reluctant, but she gave it up with a sigh.

“Although.. I think I know you most of all.” She had to catch her breath. Most of all. Of what? The inner circle of a small, overall insignificant, new empire? One of however many that he had seen rise and fall. She wanted to ask for his confirmation, for something, but she settled on worrying her bottom lip. They were quiet for a long time. Forever, it seemed.

“Do you think I’m insane?” Solas didn’t look at her, but far beyond the hill.

Maybe he made shapes out of the waves that crashed into the shore below.

The water was so different, here. Not like in the fade, where they had met the last -and very few- times since his departure following Corypheus defeat.

She had told him his eyes now change color when he lied. She told him, that the color of the sky was not as innocent as she thought. Storms came through and wreaked havoc on the undisturbed lands.

She cried then, and asked him to explain this new color, begged him please to explain the unstoppable force of his vengeance.

She even took a step closer, but he stepped back, away from her.

She asked him to meet her, just once.

She gave him her dignity, her pride.

For flesh, for contact.

For this.

_“You’re a fucking elvhen God, Solas”_

Quiet.

“Do you think I’m insane?” He repeated the question.

She breathed. 

“I don’t know.” 

She shifted her weight as she stood slightly behind him, tried to swallow the air between them; the silence weighing so heavy she had trouble keeping her back straight.

She wanted to touch him, just lightly.

Feel the hardened steel of his armor, the dew on his fur.

Quietly, she looked for the right words, tried to not float away. Her eyes focused so sternly on that one point in time, she could feel it growing distant. It grew an aura of displeasure, yet this is where she wanted to be. Most of all.

Damn the world.

It was quiet, if not for the waves and the wind. The salt was a heavy presence, on her tongue, in her eyes.

She felt the night closing in. The sky was dyed peach, almost pink, but then again blue, or white, or orange.

She wondered what it might look for him.

There were words unspoken, things she wanted to scream. Tell him that he was childish and that his success was just a dream.

There was that heat underneath her ribs as well, and she yearned to set it free.

Salvage what was left. _Beg for it._

Mend it with gold.

“Will you stay?” She blurted it out and nearly ran away right then, veins alight with something, something akin to fury.

He ran a hand over his naked scalp, unsure. Vulnerable. Frustrated.

“Where will you even go, I mean, if you conquer it all? Will you breathe?- Will you leave?” She sat down on the muddy ground and ripped grass up by the roots, dirtying her fingernails. She huffed, like a child. Pouted her lips, unsure of what to do, what to say.

“The people… Our friends. Will you leave them to just... fall? Perish? How do you justify that?”

She paused and looked up at his form. He stood quiet against the horizon, like a statue. Tall and regal. Undone, but glued together. She pondered upon his hurt.

It would be a good place, she thought. A good place. A good place, with grass and sea, heaven and rocks. A good place, for a final rest.

“Where does it end, Solas?”

“I don’t know.” 

Monotone. Haunted. He stood perfectly still, despite her fidgeting.

Still staring, watching the waves grow, and crash against the rocks. Grow. And crash.

It was quiet again, she nearly counted a hundred breaths.

“Why did you come here?” Her voice was thick with unshed tears. She didn’t expect an answer, instead dug her nails into the soil again, trying to not welcome the obvious, that there was an easy way out; the right thing to do.

Maybe there only was that one solution.

“Somehow I think,” she stood up again, stepped close. “I think, you want me to stop you.”

It finally broke Solas out of his trance, and he turned to face her, eyes heavy with tears. She watched them grow, and crash. Falling heavy down his cheeks, as he unsheathed a dagger and presented it to her.

_“Please.”_

“You can’t ask me to do that!” Her eyes rested on the sharp features of his face, seemingly silken soft in the glow of the setting sun. She remained quiet, searched his face for any other option, racked her brain for an alternative, bit her lip to remain focused on what could be salvaged, took a deep breath for everything to stop, even if just for a moment, only to realize-

“If not now-”

“Then later,” she nodded, tears flowing freely. 

She knew. It was a cheap option. But it was, and it would still remain, the option to save them all. _Those._

The ones she didn’t know. The lives she held in the palm of her hand as she grasped his dagger; the sons and daughters, the farmers and the nobles.

It was for them.

Her name would fade like ink on wet parchment, but it meant the smell of fresh-baked bread and unwrapped presents during Santanalia for _them._

Her hand latched on to the back of his neck, her forehead resting on the bridge of his nose even as she stood on her tippy-toes, her tears all but dried as she unsheathed her own dagger, and handed it to him.

He never questioned the action but his sobbing grew more violent; a final release.

Solas drew a deep breath as she steered them towards the edge of the cliff, the sharpened point of the dagger already puncturing his gut.

“Do I…” She paused and worried her lip again.

Solas stared into her eyes, ancient wisdom weighing on the edge of his brows.

His lips moved but she couldn’t make out any words; he pressed the dagger into the top of her gut. She gasped for air, hands moving on instinct to remove the intrusion.

His larger hands clasped over hers, guiding her to the dagger he had given her. He guided it with the tip to his chest, squeezing as her consciousness began to falter.

 _“Vhenan,”_ he cried.

With a swift push between his armored plates, his hands still enveloping hers and moving with utmost strength; a gentle crack of his ribs told the only tale that needed to be told.

They both gasped for air, releasing the tight hold of the dagger, releasing hurt for their last moment.

She cupped his cheek with a bloodied hand and the blood was iridescent, a mixture of both life and death as they knew it; and it was both purple and pink. Golden, and blue. The sun and the sky. Oceans and rocks, grass and trees.  
Flowers and… Peace.


End file.
